


The Coffee Grounds of Brooklyn

by papesdontsellthemselves



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, alberts a nervous lil shit, he also hates coffee, i love ralbert tbh, the name of the coffee shop is a pun i'm s o sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesdontsellthemselves/pseuds/papesdontsellthemselves
Summary: Lil Ralbert coffee shop au.  No angst for once?? What?





	The Coffee Grounds of Brooklyn

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy this thing. idk, it's short and i did it instead of ap gov homework

Albert fiddled with the fabric of his apron as he listened to his new manager, Mr. Weisel, drone on about the basic workers’ policy at the coffee shop he’d just been hired at. It was the only shop on campus that had an opening at the moment and Albert needed the money. So here he was, at ‘The Coffee Grounds of Brooklyn’, hating his life. He didn’t even like coffee- the smell was overwhelming and it tasted like bad chocolate and old toast. At least to him it did.

“And Antonio should be here any minute to get you started on your training,” Weisel finished in the same bored tone he’d been using throughout his lecture, “Ah, here he is now.”

A boy with curly blonde hair stepped behind the counter to join them and Albert recognized him immediately. It was Racetrack fucking Higgins. They’d gone to the same high school and hung around the same circle of friends, but they had never really had a one on one conversation with each other. They stopped talking altogether when the group chats they had been in together stopped existing due to college. Albert felt a ball of nerves form in his stomach. Did Race recognize him? Or did he forget who he was? Should he act like he knew Race? No, that would probably weird him out. Did that mean he’d have to pretend to be strangers with someone he knew the middle name of after a weird night in one of the group chats?

His train of thought was cut off by Weisel speaking again, “Morning, Antonio. This is-”

“Hey, Albert,” Race said, smiling warmly before addressing Weisel, “I know Albert already. I got it from here.”

“Less work for me,” Weisel deadpanned before retreating to the office in the back. Albert felt his nervousness from before dissipate. Race did recognize him and he was saved from any awkward situation for the moment.

“Albert, dude, it’s so good to see you,” Race said, genuinely, “I didn’t know ya ended up coming to NYU.”

“I didn’t know you came, either,” Albert countered. Race had definitely had a glow up since he’d last seen him. His arms showed definition underneath the short sleeved shirt he had on and his face had become broader, making him look less young. His voice, while still slightly high pitched, had evened out and taken on a perpetually soothing tone. 

“Yeah, well, in state tuition’s much cheaper and hell, I really didn’t wanna leave the city,” Race’s grin had a hint of self-deprecation in it, “I just love it here so much.”

Albert nodded, “I know what ya mean. Couldn’t leave if I tried.”

Race hummed thoughtfully, then shook his head, seemingly putting himself back on track, “Anyway, training. Shouldn’t take too long, just bare with me.” Race got to work showing him how to work the cash register and how the various coffee machines and blenders were operated. 

“And here’s a recipe book for the drinks,” Race finished, handing Albert a small, laminated booklet, “Just to use until you got the hang of making them. Our shifts are three hours, so this one ends at 12:00. We’ll switch who works the register and who makes the drinks halfway through, and if ya need any help, just let me know.”

Albert thanked him and took his place behind the register. An hour and a half passed and Race and him switched jobs. The coffee shop was fairly quiet, seeing as it was a Saturday morning and students usually slept in late. This proved to be beneficial as Albert eased himself into the routine without being overwhelmed by customers. As Race passed on various orders to him, he was able to make them with ease. 

“Al, heads up,” Race called, passing him another order ticket. Albert took it and squinted. The extra instructions on this one were frankly obnoxious. Who needed seven pumps of hazelnut in a fucking strawberry tea? He shrugged to himself and moved to turn on the boiling water tap, but when he tried to, the water just fizzed out of the tap in foamy bubbles.

“Uh, Race?” Albert called, stepping away from the foam as it continued to pour out. Race moved away from his place at the counter to join Albert in front of the tap.

“Fuck, what the fuck,” Race frantically tried to press the off button, “This hasn’t happened before, what the hell.”

Albert felt his palms start to sweat, “I didn’t do anything to it, I swear I-”

“Oh, hey no,” Race said, still trying to turn off the tap, which was now sending a stream of boiling water down to the floor, “It’s totally not your fault, don’t worry.”

Albert nodded and began trying to help Race turn off the tap. Race groaned in frustration as the foam started to gurgle and spurt in various directions. The few customers that had stuck around in the shop were looking on with either amused or horrified expressions and Albert felt his face heating up.

“Shit!” Albert cursed as some of the boiling hot water landed on his arm.

“Fuck, you okay?” Race asked, as Albert haphazardly wiped the now cooling water off of himself, but the burn that it had left was forming.

“Fuck,” Race cursed again, “That’s not gonna feel good in the morning.”

“It is morning,” Albert whined. Race chuckled and pulled him away from the puddle.

“It’s useless,” Race said, “I dunno what’s wrong with it, or how to fix it. I’ll get Weisel, then let’s get you to the minute clinic.”

Before Albert could answer, Race was already entering Weisel’s office. A minute later, he walked out again with Weisel in tow. Weisel took one look at the mess and pinched his nose.

“Put the closed sign on the door, Antonio,” He said, taking his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll call someone to fix it.”

“Okay, sir. I’m gonna take Albert to the clinic on campus,” Race said, taking of his apron and gesturing for Albert to do the same, “He got a little burned during this whole fiasco.”

Weisel only grunted and waved the two of them off. They hastily exited the shop and Race flipped the open sign to closed. 

“So, welcome to your first day on the job,” Race said, conversationally as they made their way across campus.

Albert laughed, “Thanks. It sure was a memorable experience.”

It was Race’s turn to laugh, “I know we never really talked in high school, but I feel like we’re closer now that we’ve gone through a traumatic event together.”

Albert rolled his eyes, but chuckled good-naturedly, “Oh, absolutely. I am sorry though for complicating things.”

“Again not your fault,” Race said, then paused, “Although, if it were your fault- which it’s not- but if it were, you could make it up to me by going out for coffee sometime?”

Albert felt butterflies turn in his stomach, “I-uh, I hate coffee,” he managed to splutter out. ‘Smooth, DaSilva,’ he thought to himself, bitterly.

Race laughed again, “No worries, how about lunch at Jacobi’s?”

Albert considered for a moment, “Yeah, Jacobi’s I could do.”

“Awesome, we can go after we get your arm checked out if that works for you?”

Albert nodded, “Sounds like a plan.” Maybe work wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> hope ya liked it!


End file.
